


Slow and Steady (Fast and Hard)

by run run whithertits (whithertits)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Religious Themes & References, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-16
Updated: 2010-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-13 06:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whithertits/pseuds/run%20run%20whithertits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2014: Cas likes the way Dean's body responds to him after multiple fucks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow and Steady (Fast and Hard)

The first time Castiel fucked Dean more than twice in one day, the easy, wet slide into Dean's ass had him completely enraptured. The rim of Dean's sphincter was red and swollen but loose to the touch of Castiel's fingers, opening easily at the slightest pressure.

"I had no idea," Castiel breathed out rapturously, the blue of his eyes dark and hot, pupils dilated from too much weed. "You're still so open, Dean-- I could have pulled you aside at any time and pushed right in." Dean's body tensed up at the words, except for his hole: it just gave a slow, tired spasm and relaxed again, too well-fucked to offer any further resistance.

"Shit," Dean bit out. "'f I'm so open, don't bother with lube, yeah? Just _fuck me_."

"As you wish." Castiel smirked and pushed in. It had been meant to be a punishment of sorts for Dean's impatience but instead he slid in easily, Dean's hole holding just enough slick-- a combination of lube and Castiel's come-- to ease his thrusts.

"Holy fuck," Dean gasped out, surprised at the intrusion. His legs tightened around Castiel's hips, keeping him flush tight with his body.

"Literally," Castiel agreed, voice deepened by the sudden, surprising heat around his cock. He rocked in with gentle, cruel thrusts, teasing Dean with the hint of real _fucking_. Dean's thighs could pull him in deep, but they couldn't make him thrust.

 

Castiel stretched out, lang uid, and bit down on the swell of Dean's nipple. Dean let out a soft mewl of pleasure at the touch and look of horror broke out over his face at the sound; he slapped his hand over his mouth immediately, before dropping it down to his cock in an attempt to cover motion.

"Don't try to hide from me, Dean." Castiel jabbed his cock into Dean hard, purposefully aiming for his prostate a handful of times. "I like making you sound like my whore."

"Asshole, I'm not a fucking _whore_." Dean grabbed hold of Castiel's shoulders and dragged him forward into a rough, angry kiss. "You're the one who spends all his time _fucking_."

"Can't waste my God-given talents," Castiel snarked. He took hold of Dean's cock and started stroking it hard, synching the motion with his hips. Dean was rock-hard, but dry-- Castiel didn't bother to wet his hand as he jerked Dean off, thrilled at the idea of chaffing Dean's cock.

It took longer than usual for Dean to come, Castiel thrusting lazily, not bothered to aim for Dean's prostate when he wasn't making a point. Whenever he did, Dean’s eyes rolled back in his head, eyes showing their whites. His cock dribbles gave four, pathetic dribbles of come that coated and tangled in his pubic hair.

Castiel turned it into a game, after that.

How many times did Castiel have to fuck Dean for him to be loose and open the next day? How many times did Dean have to come before all his cock could give was clear fluid, all the sperm spilled on the bed beneath him? How long past that until he couldn't come at all?

It wasn't like he had anything better to do, after all.

***

"Is this what you need, Dean?" Castiel cooed. His powers were gone, but the strength gifted to any angel roosting in a human body was inherent to his being. He lifted Dean easily and pinned him to the wall. He pressed up close along Dean's body, hard cock curving up along the crease of Dean's ass. He could feel the last load of come he'd deposited in Dean's ass leaking out slowly, a cool coat of slime slicking his cock. "Getting fucked by the last angel left on Earth-- you always were greedy."

He kept Dean pinned to the wall with one hand and fumbled at the table at his side. His prayer beads seemed just as eager as he-- they seemed to jump into his hand, beads curled around his fingers like a snake. He reached below Dean's body to the crack of his ass, and wrapped the string of beads around his cock, slowly, careful to keep the beads away from Dean's skin.

Dean pulled himself up on Castiel’s shoulders and rutted against the lightly haired skin of his stomach. His cock painted wet strips on Castiel's skin, chill in the cool air. When Castiel positioned his cock and thrust, prayer beads spreading his hole wider than he was used to, the tension in Dean's body disappeared. His eyes were glazed, mouth slack-- all his attention focused on the usual penetration.

"Do you know what that is, Dean?" A wicked smile curved over Castiel's mouth, coyote-smug. It occurred to him at moments like these that despite their arguments, Gabriel was his brother-- or had been, before his misguided suicide run with his goddess-paramour. Now he was nothing more than a dark shadow, burnt into the road in Backcountry, USA.

Castiel wouldn't make the same mistake, no matter how pretty Dean looked, defenses lowered, fucked out and breathless. He'd sacrificed more than enough for the Winchesters already and look where it had gotten him--

Well. He was buried balls-deep in the ass of the most beautiful man on Earth. But that was more about Dean being addicted to his cock and Castiel was too horny to say no to _that_.

Dean was squirming around in his arms, legs flailing indecently. "Move, goddamnit," he begged. His ass clamped down desperately on Castiel's cock, pressing the beads into the length of his shaft with his hot little motions. It was a strange sensation-- where the beads crossed over each other it almost pinched, but the knowledge that his cock was stuffed up the _mighty_ Dean Winchester's ass with his rosary was well worth it.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked innocently. "Do you need to come? Just touch yourself, Dean. Your hands are free."

Dean glared. "That won't help and you know it."

"Do I?" Castiel started to thrust his hips in, what should have been a strain with the extra girth of his cock made easy in Dean's hole, so well fucked it _never_ offered up more than a token resistance to anything Castiel asked of it. "I suppose it might be sore. Jesse's homemade exfoliating cream might have been a bit to gritty for a hand-job, I'll admit."

"'Chaffed the hell outta my cock," Dean agreed. "So unless you're planning on leaving me frustrated, get whatever you wrapped around your cock _out of my ass_ and fuck me properly."

"You love it," Castiel smirked. He back away from the wall, Dean balanced between his arms, held suspended by his cock. With a careful, practiced motion he spun Dean around and pressed them both down onto the bed, his knees spread wide on either side of Dean's.

Dean, still lodged on his cock, craned his head back to look at Castiel. "What're you doing?"

"Playing," Castiel answered. He curled his thumb and index finger around his cock and pulled his cock out of Dean, watching gleefully as his cock emerged, naked and red. He pressed his fingers back into Dean's hole, forcing apart the strings of his prayer beads around the pressure. He leaned forward and sealed his lips to the rim of Dean's hole and sucked. The beads shifted; he felt more edge out of the tight clench of Dean's channel to press against his searching tongue. He used his tongue to draw the bead into his mouth and drew back, bringing the string of prayer beads with him.

Dean's hole was loose from the fucking. The muscle blossomed open around the black beads, too well-used to offer up any resistance. Dean let out a high whine as the last of them were pulled out and twitched his hips back, desperate for more.

"You love this, don't you, Dean?" Castiel asked. He cupped his prayer beads around his hand and held them out in front of Dean's face. Dean stretched his neck out and mouthed at the necklace, sucking the combined taste of them off the black lacquer. "Your hole is so greedy for anything I offer it. Even after I fisted you, you kept asking for more-- I could have broken you that night, made it so you'd never be able to close up again. It's a good thing we both passed out, hm? You still needed a plug to go out the next day, though, didn't you? Made it so easy to fuck you that night when you got back from patrol."

Castiel's cock twitched with jealousy at the memory. He drew back and leveled an assessing look at Dean's hole. It was just how he liked it: swollen with abuse, tight to the eye but loose to the touch.

He wanted something with a bit more interaction, though. Wanted to see the tears spring to Dean's eyes as he forced his way past Dean's gag reflex.

Castiel wormed his way up the bed and under Dean's body. "I'm feeling lazy," he said, with a gesture at his cock. "Suck me off, Dean. I'll fuck you afterwards, how does that sound, hm?"

Despite all his posturing, at the end of the day Dean Winchester was a cock slut. He never refused the opportunity to get a fresh load of Castiel's jizz down his greedy little gullet or up his slutty little hole-- Castiel had met succubi less eager for sperm. When Castiel wanted his cock sucked, Dean never offered even a token protest. Over the years, he'd learned to be honest when it was just him, Castiel and the wreck Castiel made of his body. This time was no different.

Dean fell on Castiel's cock like a beggar faced with a feast. He knew what Castiel liked-- he grabbed hold of Castiel's shaft and sucked it down until his nose pressed down into Castiel's pubes. His mouth was hot, wet-- perfectly sinful and familiar.

Castiel buried his hand in Dean's short hair and rolled his hips up lazily, fucking Dean's throat. His favourite part of oral sex was the feeling of Dean's gag reflex clenched tight around his cock. He kept running his cock over the soft skin of Dean's palate and into the back of Dean's throat. It sent Dean's gag reflex into spasms; without extreme concentration, Dean would choke or vomit. Dean was helpless, completely at the whim of Castiel's cock.

"You're so good at this, Dean," Castiel breathed out, as his cock forced its way down past Dean's gag reflex and into his throat. He held himself there, imagining his cock blocking Dean's airway, before moving back so just the crown remained in Dean's mouth.

His eyes fell to half-mast and he tracked them over the arch of Dean's shoulder-blades, down the dip of his spine, to the curves of Dean's asscheeks. His eyes flicked up to the mirror across the room; the reflection was perfectly angled to show him the backs of Dean's thighs, his feet-- his hole.

"Oh," he said, surprised. He leaned forward, curving over Dean's head to get a better view. "Hold yourself open, Dean." He clasped his fingers firmly around the delicate human-weak bones of Dean's wrists, guiding his hands into place.

With his cheeks spread wide, the red, swollen rim of his ass was clearly visible. The muscle clenched as Dean struggled to hold his position, to stop himself from toppling over.

Castiel relished Dean's struggle. He pushed Dean's head down further onto his cock, exaggerating the angle of Dean's spine. He watched rapturously as Dean's hole tensed, then released, as Dean's body adjusted to the strain.

"It's hungry," Castiel said, more to himself than to Dean. "Poor little hole, so empty-- it doesn't seem to like being ignored." His orgasm hit him by surprise, pleasure exploding out from his balls and into the wet heat of Dean's mouth.

Dean drank down the come eagerly, swallowing every drop from Castiel's cock. He released the cheeks of his ass and reared up, abdominals clenching. He licked hips lips and said, "I guess that fuck is out of the question, huh?"

Castiel gave his softening cock a bored look. "Don't worry, Dean; I'll make sure you get yours. I never leave my partners high and dry."

"You'd have everyone in camp soaked in spunk and pussy juice if you could manage it," Dean muttered, giving his cock a tentative stroke before letting it go with a grimace. The shaft almost looked like it had a rash, the irritation irregular and angry looking.

"That's true." Castiel smiled at the thought. He reached for the joint he'd put out at Dean's arrival. He used one of the discar ded lighters scattered around to light the tip and sucked on the soggy, filterless end.

He offered the joint to Dean and smiled when Dean accepted. He must have been desperate to get off-- Dean was rarely willing to cloud his mind with anything more risqué than beer, these days. _And sex_ , his added to himself, wryly.

His limbs turned languid as the effects of the drug took hold. He cast his gaze over the room, looking for inspiration and found it in the tattered red of his couch. He smiled.

He stood and pulled Dean up along with him; Dean looked bemused, but let himself be led. Castiel pushed Dean toward the back of the couch. "Down," he said, and pushed firmly on Dean's chest. Dean sat on the back of the couch and looked to Castiel for further instruction. Castiel kept pushing back on his chest until Dean overbalanced and fell back, splayed awkwardly, knees still hanging off the edge of the couch. Castiel gripped Dean's calves and manhandled him until his the top of his spine lay near the end of the cushions on the couch, bent double with his knees pressed into his shoulders, pinning him down. His ass was raised vertically, gravity forcing the cheeks of his ass apart, revealing his hole to Castiel's eye.

"Perfect." Castiel spread his hand over Dean's asscheek, enjoying the feel of Dean's pelvic bones so close to the surface. He grabbed a chair and placed it behind the couch. He sat down primly and started to work.

He placed his hands on the globes of Dean's asscheeks and spread them wide. His thumbs brushed over the line where Dean's skin transitioned from the smooth, golden skin he showed to the world and the darker, thinner skin of his genitalia.

Dean gasped at the touch. His cock, hanging down between his legs, still hard, twitched once and let out a dribble of precome, which smeared over his stomach wetly.

Castiel massaged the skin with his thumbs and slid his hands back and forth down the dip of Dean's cheeks, one at a time, pressing the first three fingers on his hand shallowly into the dip of Dean's hole, never going deeper than the first ring of muscle. He rubbed his middle finger along the Dean's perineum, rubbing his prostate from the outside. Dean's cock obediently dibbled more liquid at the touch.

"It's been a while since I've made you come just from my fingers in you, hasn't it, Dean?" Castiel asked rhetorically. He let his fingers sink in deeper, but kept the touch short, teasing. "Think it'll take as long? You've been hard for almost an hour, Dean-- I bet your cock would hurt even without the sandy handjob."

"If you hadn't given me that _sandy handjob_ you could have given me a reach around and I wouldn't have had an erection for so long pharmaceutical companies would have had me calling their help lines."

"I suppose that's supposed to be a hint?" Castiel pressed three fingers into Deans ass and curled them toward his palm, stretching Dean's loosened hole open. A red crescent of Dean's colon peeked out at him, smooth and tempting. He licked at the crescent-shaped openin g, pushing his tongue hard against Dean's sphincter until it gave and his tongue slipped out and over Dean's perineum to his balls.

Dean's ass clenched down on his fingers at the touch, a quiet moan shuddering out from his chest. Castiel could just see Dean's face from his position, twisted up in pleasure. He smiled at the sight and decided to stop his teasing motions. Dean was more than worked up enough already.

He straightened his fingers and jabbed Dean's prostate. He fucked his fingers in and out of Dean's hole; the knuckles of his fingers emerged from Dean's hole each time he withdrew, rubbing against the loosened muscle of Dean's ass from the inside on each backstroke. He rubbed Dean's prostate firmly, knew Dean's cock was leaking more fluid, even though his attention was locked on the angry, inflamed skin of Dean's ass and his fingers deep inside.

He slipped the last finger on his hand into Dean's hole; it disappeared along with the rest, which let his hand slide in past the line of knuckles, until only his thumb remained on the outside. Dean let out a desperate whine. "I could fist you like this, Dean," he said. "Your body's so open-- if I wanted to, I could curl my thumb in and push in until your greedy ass had taken my whole hand."

Castiel pressed his thumb into Dean's perineum and his fingers inside to Dean's prostate, milking it from both sides. Dean went crazy on the couch, legs jerking. His balls drew up tight against his body and with a sharp squeeze of his prostate, Dean came.

His ass clamped down on Castiel's fingers like a vice, trapping them inside. Castiel kept pumping his fingers, and Dean let out a short scream, cock spurting out strand after strand of thick, ropey come. Castiel didn't let the orgasm stop, working Dean's prostate for all it was worth, until Dean's cries turned to sobs and his cock stopped squirting, though it still pulsed, trying to pump out sperm that wasn't there.

"Stop," Dean begged, sounding half out of his mind, agonized. "Please, stop, it _hurts_."

Castiel hummed to himself and withdrew his fingers from Dean's hole, giving Dean's perineum one last, regretful rub on his way. "That's the fastest I've ever been able to make you come dry, Dean. We'll have to do this again."

Dean's sobs quieted slowly. A clumsy hand wiped at his come-soaked belly, coating his fingers. He brought them up to his mouth and sucked them clean.

He didn't comment on Castiel's plans, but that was the norm. If Castiel wasn't too high to remember them the next day, he'd have to see if he could make Dean say "no".

It hadn't happened yet, but Castiel was always searching for the limits of what Dean's body could take.


End file.
